


Riemannian Geometry

by Tarlan



Category: Without a Trace
Genre: Crime Fighting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-29
Updated: 2004-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A case of a missing girl found dead gets even more complicated when the team finds out that she was Victor Fitzgerald's illegitimate daughter and that the killer is far from done, yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riemannian Geometry

**Author's Note:**

> Fuh-Q-Fest: Without a Trace #2 - also using the additional random words #31 Riemannian Geometry class

The photo pinned to the white board held uncomfortable familiarity to Martin and he squinted, cocking his head to one side in the hope that a different angle would shed some light on his unease. He sighed softly as no recollection of this girl came back to him but then he knew very few people in New York outside of the men and women seated around the table.

When he first arrived in New York he had made an attempt to meet people by frequenting some of the singles' bars in the hope of easing some of the loneliness but those few encounters with others had left him feeling even more alone and more aware of the friends he had left behind in Seattle and Washington DC. Instead of finding companionship, he had merely found a body to share his bed for a few hours, and once the sex was out of the way he had discovered they had little left to say. Usually, that was when they got up, dressed and walked out... or expected him to go away if they had taken him back to their apartment. It had left an emptiness that became a gnawing hole deep inside and so he would stop going to the bars... for a time... until even the superficial company seemed better than staring at the bare walls of his lonely apartment.

Yet, it was in one of those bars, a month back, that he had found the sort of companionship he had only dreamed of before, and the mere thought of what he had found sent a warm tingling through him. It took a conscious effort not to look at his lover and Martin was grateful when Jack slid folders along the table to each of them and then began speaking, drawing Martin's thoughts away from the recent past and cooling the heat of his memories.

"Christine White, age 17, left her apartment this morning, presumably to go to class but she never arrived. Viv, I want you and Danny to check with her landlady, and ask around the neighborhood, see if anyone recalls seeing her this morning. Sam, you and I will take the college, ask about new boyfriends, problems at home or with her class work... the usual."

"What about me?"

Jack looked uncomfortable as his dark eyes met Martin's but when Danny asked the question that all of them would have been thinking.

"Isn't this a little premature? I mean, kids goof off class all the time."

"So why is this one so special?" Added Vivian.

"I can't tell you right now... but this investigation came down from the top so all you need to know is that she's linked to *someone* of importance." Jack sat back in his seat but Martin could tell by his sour expression that he hated withholding information from his team. "I'll explain once you have the initial reports ready. Okay, you know what to do so..." He opened his hands and the others took it as sign to get working, all except Martin who had yet to receive an assignment.

"Jack?"

Jack sighed and leaned forward. "Martin... I need the paperwork tidied for the last three cases--"

"Paperwork?" Martin could not believe that he was still being treated like a traitor in their midst, being sidelined because it could be another high profile case. "Look, I know I've screwed up in the past, and they tried to hang all my mistakes on you b--"

"This isn't about you and me, Martin. That's all water under the bridge now, and has been for weeks." Jack sighed. "I need to tell you something... something that will make everything clearer... but in private."

Jack rose and walked towards his office, looking back only once when Martin did not immediately rise up and follow. Martin took a deep breath and pushed up from the table. He followed on behind Jack, casting a single significant look towards Danny in the hope that his lover understood that he might need to vent later. Jack sat down behind his desk as if using the furniture as a shield, and bade Martin to sit.

"Think I'll stand for this."

"Sit down, Martin."

Jack's spoke softly but Martin recognized the authority in his voice, so much like his father's but at least Jack held his respect. He sat slowly, drawing his lips into a tight line as an ugly thought crept into his head. What if someone had figured out that he and Danny were sleeping together? Or worse, what if someone higher up the chain had discovered his relationship with Danny and had told his father? He knew the FBI did not expressly forbid such relationships between agents at the same level, falling under the same 'don't tell and we won't ask' policy that now applied to the armed forces too, but that did not mean it was looked upon kindly.

Especially for a Fitzgerald, he thought.

"Martin... There's no easy way to say this, and by rights it should be your father telling you this but... for once, maybe he's done the right thing by--"

"Jack? If this is something to do with my father then--"

"Christine White is your half-sister."

Strangely enough, Martin felt relief rather than anger sweep through him. He had truly believed that his father had found out about Danny and, in some misguided belief that he was protecting him, had ordered him reassigned to Alaska or some other remote location. However, knowing his father, it was more likely that Danny would find himself out in the cold. Then it struck him. He had a half-sister who was... eleven years younger. Martin thought back to when he was around eleven years old, and recalled the terrible silences that fell between the viciously whispered accusations. Although his parents tried to hide his father's affair from him, the kids at school had known because it had been splashed across the news, and they took great pleasure in taunting him about it.

Despite this, his parents had tried to hide the distressing state of their marriage from him in the belief that it would do him some form of mental damage to see his parents arguing, but having to tiptoe around his parents for fear of starting up one of those 'behind closed doors' arguments had caused far worse. His father had taken to spending days at a time away from home but they had mentioned divorce only once, as a threat issued by his mother on one unguarded occasion.

Whatever difficulties had existed between them had seemed to evaporate soon after, and slowly life returned to some semblance of normality with the media finding a new target to focus on. At eleven years old, he had not wondered what had happened to the other woman, and then it was all forgotten.

His father had ended the affair.

However, not before the woman in question had fallen pregnant, he thought, suddenly understanding why the face had seemed so familiar. The missing girl bore a striking resemblance to photos of his paternal grandmother from when she was a young woman.

"Is that why you're keeping me off the case? Because she's related?"

"No."

"Don't you trust me to--"

"Trust isn't the issue. I didn't make this decision and I don't know why it was made. All I know is that a young woman is missing and the case has been handed to us with the request that you stay out of the field for the duration." Jack leaned forward. "I don't like it. It means they know more than they're letting on... makes me wonder if you could be in danger too... and that bothers me."

Martin could sense how much Jack disliked the situation, not knowing if he was in real danger or being guarded by an over-protective father. After the recent internal investigation of the team, he knew Jack was playing safe for all their sakes so Martin had to agree, albeit unwillingly, that following orders was the best course of action. Neither of them needed another investigation opening old wounds or making fresh ones even though his newfound relationship with Danny had stemmed directly from that obscene witch hunt that had revealed, all too clearly, the influence his father had within the FBI.

After his father's revelation that he had set the wolves upon Jack to protect him, Martin had gone back to the singles' bar fairly close to where he lived, looking for a willing body to lose himself in for a few hours. Instead, he had found the last person he wanted to see that day -- Danny. The shock of seeing Danny there had quickly melted into anger as Martin convinced himself that Danny must have followed him with the intention of taunting him... or worse, for finding just cause to have him ousted from the team.

Danny had cooled his anger with two words -- I'm sorry -- and they had spent the rest of the evening doing something that Martin had only dreamed of before. They spent the evening sitting and talking in the bar, with Martin drinking beer while they shared small details from their lives and laughed at anecdotes until Danny finally became serious.

"I didn't follow you here and, I know you didn't follow me."

"This is a gay bar, Danny." Martin had stated, wanting to refute Danny's claim that he had not followed him there that night, and strangely saddened that Danny had tried to lie to him.

Danny had opened his eyes wide and stared around, mouth open in shock as if only just registering the lack of females in the darkened bar. "No kidding," he had said, and then broke the illusion by giving Martin a wicked grin. "Then it's lucky I'm gay."

"You're gay?"

"Okay... I'm Bi... but tonight I was looking for some anonymous male company."

"I'm hardly anonymous."

"No... But you've been good company so far. Do you wanna go the rest of the way?"

Martin's thoughts came back to the present, unable to keep a small smile from curving his lips as he thought of the first of many nights they had shared in each other's arms since that evening. The smile turned rueful.

"The last three cases?"

Relief and gratitude filled Jack's dark eyes and he nodded, his lips parting to mouth a silent 'yes'. Martin rose from his chair smoothly and headed for the door, only for Jack to call him back as he reached the threshold.

"Martin? Remember... I need you to stay in the office today. All day. But there's no reason why you can't help correlate all the information picked up in the interviews once the others return."

With a brief smile, Martin turned away and went to work.

***

The call came in around 7 p.m. while Martin was adding more details to the time line that stretched across the width of the whiteboard. The Police had found the naked and beaten body of a young woman in a dingy motel room and there was every indication that they had found Christine White. Martin remained silent while they waited for confirmation, wondering if Christine had known of their father -- and of her half-brother. Throughout the day he had considered what he might say to her should they come face to face and now he had a feeling that they would never meet in this life.

The phone rang in Jack's office and he watched carefully, reading Jack's body language through the pane of glass separating him from his team. The slump of his shoulders and the sorrowful expression he turned towards them as he continued the call told volumes. The call seemed to go on forever but, finally, Jack replaced the handset onto its cradle and, after a moment to gather his thoughts, he rose up and left his office. The team gathered around to hear the bad news.

"Identity confirmed." His eyes focused on Martin. "I'm sorry, Martin." He turned back to face the others and bade them all to take their seats around the conference table. "Under the circumstances I have permission to tell you the following... most of which I have only just learned. This morning, Deputy Director Fitzgerald received a call asking him if he knew where his kids were. Something about the caller set him on edge so he checked... and discovered Christine had never made it to class that morning."

"She was your sister?" Danny blurted out in a mixture of surprise and horror.

Martin barely registered the shock on Viv and Sam's faces for, within moments, hurt had replaced the horror, and he could see Danny was upset that he had not mentioned any of this during the day.

"Half-sister," he mumbled, feeling a little guilty that he had kept the information from Danny but he had needed to show Jack that he could be trusted.

"Martin only learned of her existence this morning, and I told him to keep that private."

"Probably 'cause my dad wanted to avoid a scandal if she turned up alive and well."

Martin regretted the bitterness in his words instantly and another glance at Danny revealed his lover's sad eyes, and made his chest tighten as he turned away to stare at the pretty girl in the photo. Once more he felt betrayed by his father even though Victor Fitzgerald had always claimed that everything he did was in Martin's best interest. But how many other skeletons lurked in his father's closet? How many more opportunities would Martin lose because his father had decided he knew better?

****

Jack looked at his watch. "There's nothing more we can so let's finish for the day." Everyone stood up and started to drift away but Jack called out softly. "Danny, I want you to stay with Martin tonight."

Danny's eyebrows shot up and then his eyes widened in realization. If someone was targeting Victor Fitzgerald's children, legitimate or otherwise, then Martin could well be next on the killer's list. He nodded and wandered over to where Martin was tidying up his desk in that once annoying but now endearing fashion. Pens were replaced in the holder and files neatly stacked before Martin reached for his jacket and finally noticed Danny leaning against a desk, watching him like a predator eyeing his intended meal.

Danny smirked at that thought, recalling the way he had devoured every inch of Martin's body with his eyes two nights back, feasting his senses on the touch, taste, sight and sound of his lover as Martin writhed in pleasurable torment beneath him. After a month together, it was still hard to believe that the almost staid Martin could be so wanton a bed partner and Danny thanked whatever deity had sent him out to the singles' bars that night in search of an escape from the pressure of that internal investigation. He had wanted someone he could be strong with, someone with whom he would not need to hold back for fear of hurting them, and so he had gone out looking for a man -- and he had found the one man on the planet that he had hoped to avoid -- Martin.

At the time, seeing Martin striding towards him with a look of thunder on his face had been a real annoyance. Then he had recalled the way he had treated his colleague by making insinuations that Martin had denounced them all to save his own career when it was patently untrue. He had allowed fear and the injustice towards Jack to overcome both his good nature and his common sense, and he deeply regretted those accusations. It was only in those last few seconds with Martin bearing down upon him that he realized that his true reason for being in this place was so he could escape from himself.

Saying 'sorry' had come more easily because it he had meant it, and that must have shown in his face as it stopped the expected tirade from Martin dead in its tracks. Then, for the first time he had put all thoughts of his needs out of his head and concentrated on the man seated opposite, wanting to take the time to understand Martin Fitzgerald rather than carry on making broad assumptions about him and his life. As he listened, he realized how often those assumptions had been wrong and discovered that there was an interesting man beneath the mask Martin showed to the rest of the world, one who had a dry sense of humor and an intelligence that was more than equal to his own. Despite the many times Martin had shown he was a capable team player, Danny had refused to admit that Martin might have gained his coveted position on Missing Persons through ability rather than through his father's influence. Now he could no longer deny that Martin had earned the right to be on the team, and with that recognition came the freely offered respect that he had grudgingly withheld until then.

His thoughts returned to the man now standing before him with a confused expression on his handsome face.

"Come on, Fitzie. Jack told me to take you home and stay with you tonight."

Martin raised both eyebrows, his eyes darting towards Jack's office where their team leader had grabbed his coat and was preparing to leave for the evening.

"You think he knows about us?"

"Yeah... but as long as we don't screw up on the job he won't mention it."

They left the office side by side and, for Danny, it felt exciting to know he was going to be in Martin's bed and fucking the man senseless within the hour, and then through the night until morning. The knowledge that they had to be careful not to be caught had tainted every one of their previous encounters, so staying a full night had been out of the question. Yet, curling up behind Martin after sex had felt surprisingly good, and it had become harder to tear himself away from that incredibly warm and silky skin each time. For his body seemed to fit against Martin as if they were two pieces making a whole, completing more than just a physical presence but a spiritual one too.

They shared the elevator down to the basement parking garage with Sam and Danny felt a twinge of annoyance as he watched her openly flirting with his lover. Ever since her affair with Jack had ended, she had been trying to win him back by attempting to make him jealous, oblivious to what Jack, and even Vivian, seemed to know... that Martin was already taken... by him. In a way it was laughable that Sam, the normally intuitive FBI agent, had failed to notice the lack of interest from Martin beyond the platonic but then, she had focused her sole intent upon Jack rather than on the man she was attempting to use.

Knowing Martin was *his* lover should have been enough to dampen the ire but he hated that she could touch Martin so openly and could make her sexual intentions known so publicly whereas he had to hide his true feelings for fear of reprisals that could jeopardize both their careers.

With relief, he bade goodnight to Sam, and it was only once they had reached Martin's car, sinking into its comfortable seats and slamming the doors to shut out the rest of the world that he heard Martin's sigh of relief too. Danny chuckled softly, allowing one small gesture of possession as he dropped his hand onto Martin's leanly muscled thigh, and Martin rewarded him with the slightest curve of a smile.

"Perfect subject for Riemannian geometry," Martin said wryly and Danny quirked his lips in bemusement, knowing by the broadening of Martin's smile that he would get an explanation. "To *mis*quote a text I once read... Riemannian geometry describes the world of creatures that live on a curved surface or space and don't know about higher dimensions, or have no access to them."

Danny snorted, understanding the connection. They all lived in their own little curved worlds, and Sam measured hers a little differently to the way he and Martin measured theirs. He realized that, at this moment in time, she had no idea of their world, not even registering its existence because she was only willing to focus on how to reach the distant goals in her own world.

His grin turned to a leer. "Only geometry I'm interested in is getting you horizontal... with one part of you going vertical while I try a few intersecting angles."

Martin laughed aloud at the terrible puns and started the car, instantly pushing Sam to the back of his mind as he focused on the glorious image Danny had just created. Within moments he had joined the slowly moving, mid-evening traffic filling the streets of New York as he headed for home and a, hopefully, uninterrupted night of pleasure in Danny's arms.

****

Martin groaned in annoyance as the entrance buzzer sounded, drawing him out of a restful sleep, and then he registered the warm body pressed up against his back and curved around his ass. He had thought Danny only liked to spoon up after sex but the arm loosely curled around his waist had maintained a welcome possessiveness even in sleep. Martin snuggled back against the warm body, feeling the answering surge of hardening flesh as he ground his ass against Danny's groin.

The buzzer sounded again, and this time Martin cursed softly as Danny's arm moved upwards to his chest, with the fingers scraping over a nipple to send a fresh surge of desire into his morning erection.

"Door bell," he murmured in disgust as he moved out of Danny's embrace. He slipped on a bathrobe and crossed to the intercom, resisting the urge to tell whomever it was to go away, instead he asked who was calling. A disembodied voice answered him, and he recognized the name.

"Mr. Fitzgerald. Your father would like to speak with you. He's waiting in the car."

Any lingering warmth and pleasure evaporated as if he had stood in an ice-cold shower. "If he wants to speak to me then he can come--" Martin paused, suddenly aware that the last thing he wanted was for his father to come up to the apartment right now, not when he had Danny Taylor naked and sleepily sated in his bed, and the air still filled with the musk of their physical pleasure. He knew his father would find out about them eventually but he had hoped to keep their relationship a secret from him for just a little longer.

Then it occurred to him that his father might already know, and might be aware that he had not spent the night alone. If that was the case then he wondered how his father had reacted when he discovered that Martin was even further from being the perfect son that he wanted. However, if it came to a showdown between them, Martin could not, and would not change the way he felt about Danny just to satisfy his father, even if that meant being disowned and disinherited.

He took a deep breath. There was only one way to find out and that was to go down and see his father.

"I'll be down in a few minutes."

He disconnected the call and moved swiftly into the bathroom, washing quickly before pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a gray tee shirt. He slipped into a pair of trainers without bothering with socks then moved to the bed, kissing Danny's shoulder lightly before whispering softly.

"My dad's downstairs. I'll go see what he has to say and then I'll be right back."

Danny murmured incoherently but rolled over and called out as Martin reached the door. "Make sure you hurry back, Fitzie, or I might have to deal with this alone."

He rubbed his hard erection and gave Martin a wicked smile as a blush tinged Martin's cheeks. The mere sight of Danny lying there, ready and wanting for his touch, gave Martin the extra resolve he needed for the upcoming confrontation even though he still dreaded the meeting.

"Don't touch anything, Taylor. I'll be back."

****

Danny heard the door close behind Martin and he sprawled onto his back across the bed, stretching luxuriously to ease the kinks in his back from sleeping curled up against Martin all night long. Although pleasurable memories lingered on the threshold of his mind, recalling the way Martin had moved beneath him as he possessed him deeply, another more pressing need pulled him from the bed.

As he stood in the bathroom relieving himself, he wondered what Victor Fitzgerald wanted to say to his son, and whether it was about Christine or about Martin's relationship with another man. However, there was some other thought niggling at the back of his mind that was driving him crazy... and then it jumped into view.

Christine had left her apartment and then disappeared without a trace. No one had seen her walking along the street to the subway and she had not stopped at the small grocer's to pick up a bagel for breakfast, as she did every morning on her way to class. It was as if she had ceased to exist at the base of her apartment building until they found her dead in that grimy motel room twelve hours later.

What if she had known her killer, and perhaps had gone with him willingly? Just like Martin had gone down to see...

Shock rippled through Danny and he grabbed his pants from the back of the chair in the bedroom and pulled them on as he hurried through the apartment, snaring his dress shirt along the way from where he discarded it when they arrived at Martin's home last night. He raced out of the door and made for the stairs, unwilling to waste time waiting for the ancient elevator and taking four or five steps at a time. He knew Martin would have waited for the slow elevator and then walked liked a reluctant man heading for his execution so he guessed he might be only half a minute behind by the time he reached the street. He raced out of the building onto the street, looking first one way and then another until he Martin some distance away, standing next to a smartly dressed stranger. The man pulled open the rear door of a car standing beside them and Martin leaned down to look inside but then he straightened abruptly, his hand flying to his left thigh as he turned startled eyes to the man standing next to him.

Danny was running long before he saw Martin crumble into the man's arms, and he yelled 'Stop, FBI' loud enough to cause the man to look in his direction. With the distance quickly closing between them, the man dropped Martin to the ground, slammed shut the rear door and jumped into the driver's seat. The car started first time and, with a squeal of tires leaving a stench of burnt rubber in air, he was gone by the time Danny skidded to his knees beside his unconscious lover.

Several people stuck their heads out of windows and Danny yelled at them, telling them to call the paramedics and the police in the hope that at least one of those people would prove an upstanding citizen and do as he asked. He reached for the pulse point at Martin's throat, the tension in his shoulders easing as he registered the throb of blood still pumping through his lover. Danny pulled Martin's head onto his lap, brushing his fingers through the short strands of brown hair, and sighing his relief when he heard distant sirens approaching.

He relinquished his hold on Martin to the paramedics and stood back as they went to work, lips drawing into a tight line as he watched them load Martin into the back of the ambulance. Every fiber of his being had wanted to clamber inside and stay with Martin for the ride to the hospital and beyond but the NYPD had arrived and he knew his duty now lie in trying to apprehend the man who had tried to abduct Martin. Yet he lingered a moment longer, watching until the ambulance had turned the corner before moving, barefoot and practically bare-chested, to meet the approaching cops.

****

Victor Fitzgerald stared down at his son, his memories flying back through the years to recall similar moments to this. He remembered when Martin was five years old, and sick, and how he had spent part of the night seated by his little boy's bed, soothing him back to sleep whenever he cried out. He could still see so much of that small child in the man lying unconscious here, enough for his knees to feel weak with a father's fear. He sank to the chair beside the bed and reached over to touch the wisps of short brown hair, saddened to know Martin would never have allowed this had he been awake.

Out the corner of his eye he caught a slight movement and glanced across to find Jack Malone standing on the threshold, watching him in a mixture of compassion and unease.

"They never cease to be your babies... not even when they're full grown."

Jack took this as an invitation to enter. "I didn't want to intrude... but we found George Evans. He's dead."

George Evans had been the father of a man Victor had been instrumental in sending to prison four months back after a lengthy trial. The jury had found Steven Evans guilty of insider dealing on the stock exchange, causing losses that amounted to millions of dollars for some companies. His actions had sent share prices plummeting, forcing a number of smaller companies into filing for bankruptcy and ruining thousands of lives. With the money stashed away inside offshore accounts, they could not even seize the profits he had made, and so Steven Evans went into prison with the knowledge that he would lead a very good life once he got out in less than ten years.

However, someone had hated that idea and within three months, prison wardens found Steven Evans dead in his cell.

George Evans had accused the government of making no attempt to find his son's murderer, convinced that they had played a small part in it by allowing the killer access, and no one could convince him otherwise. The stress of the court case had torn the Evans family apart, with his daughter finding refuge in hard drugs and his wife leaving to seek solace in the arms of another. He had lost his job; a casualty of his son's crime, and no one would hire him for the same reason.

"I'm still finding it hard to understand why he chose to come after my family."

"Perhaps the final straw was the divorce coming through earlier this week." Jack sighed.

Victor nodded, only now truly understanding how lucky he had been in his life. He and George Evans had traveled along a parallel road in life but his son had joined the FBI whereas Evans' had ended up in dead in prison. His daughter had been on her way to university, looking towards a bright future whereas Natalie Evans had become an addict, selling herself on street corners for heroin... and his wife had stood by him after discovering his affair with Christine's mother despite the intensive media coverage at the time.

Her only condition had been that he would not tell Martin anything about the half-sister that had come out of his affair... and Victor had readily agreed, not wanting to jeopardize their marriage any further. At least she had allowed him to maintain contact with Susan and the baby, allowing him the chance to watch his daughter grow into a lovely, intelligent young woman.

Tears burned in his eyes. His little girl was dead, and his son lay unconscious, deeply sedated by the drug Evans had used to overpower the younger man.

"I know about... Taylor... and my son."

He thought of the order he had drawn up two days back that would have Agent Taylor transferred to the Houston office effective immediately, putting him as far from Martin as Victor could arrange on short notice. It was only awaiting his signature but fear for Christine had delayed him at the time, and now his thoughts were in turmoil. Today he had almost lost the son he thought he was protecting, and it was the man he had wanted removed from Martin's side that had saved his son where he had failed.

His shock at Christine's murder had blinded him to the possibility of the killer going after his son, and if Taylor had not been there, or if Taylor had been just a little slower, then Evans would have abducted and then murdered his little boy too.

"He's not a little boy," he said softly and shook his head as Malone leaned in, unable to capture his quietly spoken words. He spoke louder this time. "I only ever wanted what was best for him."

"Perhaps Danny Taylor is best for him."

Victor pulled upright in his seat, mulling over Malone's words and realizing that they made sense in some odd way, as if he could only now see the powerful connection between these two men... his son and this other man. It was not what he wanted, and it would not be his mother's choice either, especially as she had been hinting that Martin was in love, and had expected to hear an announcement soon. Though how she could make such a leap when the two had only been together a month, and she did not even know the name let alone the gender of the person in question, was beyond his comprehension, but he could not deny that she knew their son's moods better than he did. Maybe she had read something in the tone of his voice, or from the way he talked of that 'special person' in his life.

He thought of Agent Taylor, recollecting the information he had pulled out of the files, of citations for bravery, acute intelligence, an ability to put witnesses at ease and draw responses from them that had proved vital in the search for Missing Persons. Taylor was an excellent agent... and a good man too... certainly an agent of which the FBI could be proud.

He thought of George Evans and the failings of his children, caught up in fraud and drugs. In comparison, was it so bad that his son had fallen in love with another man? Was Taylor such a bad choice in that case?

"Perhaps he's not such a bad choice." Victor looked up. "And perhaps it's time I let him make a few more choices, even if they're not what I would have wanted for him." Tears burned in his eyes again but this time he did not force them away. "I've already lost one of my children. I wouldn't want to lose another." He took a deep breath. "Is Agent Taylor waiting outside?"

Malone looked a little uneasy. "Yes, sir."

"The doctor said he should be waking any time now. I know who he'd prefer to see when he wakes up."

"Perhaps... but he would also want to see you. Just to know you cared."

****

Next Evening:

Martin gasped as Danny leaned in to kiss him hard, driving his hard cock deeper into Martin's willing body. In response, Martin wrapped his legs tightly around the lean waist, heels digging into the firm pale ass as if he could keep Danny deep inside him forever. His own erection was trapped between their hard-pressed bodies, with each thrust of Danny's hips sending exquisite sensations racing through him.

He moaned into the mouth that laid claim to his so voraciously, hands clawing into short dark hair with bruising need as Danny hit the sweet spot over and over, feeling his innards melt as his climax overtook him. Ripples of pleasure swept through every muscle as his semen spilled between them, the liquid heat searing his over-sensitized flesh.

Danny dragged his mouth away, unaware of the hoarse words falling from his bruised and swollen lips coming faster and faster as he drove towards completion, a benediction building in tempo as he worshiped at the altar upon which he lay. He arched back up, locked arms corded with muscle with his chest suspended above Martin, exposing the tall column of his vulnerable throat as he threw his head back. He cried out Martin's name as his pelvis snapped forward with one last powerful thrust, burying his cock as deep as it could go. Short, hard gasps followed, matching the final jabs of his body as he emptied his soul as well as his semen into his lover.

Quivering from exhaustion, his arms gave out, and Danny fell onto Martin's chest, face buried into the pillow beside Martin's head, his body shaking from the intensity of his climax and the amazing feelings running through him. He knew the sex was no better than what he had experienced before with other men but never before had his mind and soul been so attuned to the needs of his body. It was no longer just sex... it was making love.

Martin maintained his vice-like grip for as long as he could, not wanting to face the emptiness a moment sooner than necessary but, eventually, he gave in to the fatigue of his muscles. He moaned in loss when Danny pushed up on one elbow while the other hand reaching between them to hold the condom in place as he withdrew. He watched as Danny moved to the side, rolling off the used condom and tying it before dropping it, unceremoniously, into the wastebasket beside the bed, and he grinned as Danny echoed his silent wish.

"Can't wait for the results to come back so we can dispense with them." Danny rolled back onto his side and leaned over Martin, one hand trailing possessively over Martin's slightly furred chest, teasing a nipple. "Don't want anything but skin between us."

"Ever?"

Danny gave a wicked grin. "Although the idea of watching you walk around the office naked is appealing, I'm not into sharing." His fingernails raked across the sensitive nipple and down his chest to drag through the rapidly cooling evidence of Martin's spent passion. "This is all mine."

Martin grinned; renewed warmth flooding through him at the possessiveness filling the desire-darkened eyes but the moment was short lived as a wide yawn overtook him.

"Am I boring you?"

"Could say I feel well and truly bored."

Danny chuckled softly, his hands gentling as they stroked over Martin's hip. Martin heard the deep sigh of satisfaction, watching as kiss-bruised lips curved into a smile that Danny seemed to have reserved for Martin alone. The hand trailed back to skim Martin's sticky, semen-slicked stomach, and those dark eyes looked down between them, the curl of Danny's mouth turning to a grimace.

"Shower, fresh sheets and then sleep."

Martin laughed softly. They both had their share of character traits, and Danny was like a big house cat, fastidious about his appearance and state of cleanliness. Danny shifted slightly so Martin stretched out his legs, and groaned, feeling the deep-seated ache from Danny's welcome possession.

"I don't think I could move."

He hissed as he made the attempt anyway, relishing the burn of abused muscle as he sat up. After a moment he staggered towards the bathroom, aware that Danny would follow even though there was not enough room for them to share the shower stall. He showered quickly, sluicing away the sticky residue of spent passion from his belly and groin, and the film of sweat from every other inch of his body. When he emerged, clean and fresh, he found Danny sitting on the toilet lid as expected, waiting for him with a large towel in hand. Murmuring his thanks, he dried quickly, pausing only once to stare at Danny's perfect form through the misted screen as Danny took his shower.

Their ritual played out as he handed a clean bath towel to Danny before they remade the bed with fresh sheets. Within seconds they were back under the quilt, snuggled together, and too tired to do more than caress smooth flesh and plant tiny kisses on each other.

A companionable silence grew as Martin settled down to sleep in his lover's arms, but a whisper shattered his peace.

"Your dad knows about us." Martin froze in Danny's embrace. "Got the impression he'd been planning on sending me some place far away from his little boy before..."

Danny's words trailed off as the horror of the last two days came back to haunt him. Martin had lost a sister before he even knew she existed, but far worse, Danny had almost lost Martin. He swallowed hard as he recalled how close he had come to losing this precious man lying in his arms, perhaps the difference of only a matter of seconds. If he had stopped to pull on his shoes, or do up his shirt buttons. If he had decided to wait for the elevator or had taken a leisurely stroll down the stairs instead of racing at breakneck speed then Evans would have had time to drag Martin's sedated body into that car and drive off before Danny had reached the street.

He frowned, tightening his grip on Martin. Two months ago, losing Martin would have been bad, but now, losing him would have been more than he could bear.

"Riemannian Geometry", he murmured, the notion of connection that allows one to compare what is happening at two distant points of a curved space in spite of the fact that there is no direct and immediate way to communicate between these points.

Danny had checked a few references after Martin had mentioned it in relation to Sam, and though he did not pretend to understand a word of it, it seemed to apply equally to them. He and Martin had started out as distant points in their little world, and the differences between them had made it seem that there would be no direct way for them to connect. Each of them had been locked into their own preconceptions of the other. Danny had seen Martin as a spoiled daddy's boy, born with a silver spoon in his mouth and vaulting up the ranks of the FBI due to his father's influence. Martin had seen him as someone with a huge chip on his shoulder, who played too fast and loose with the rules, and not taking the job seriously enough.

Some how, they had found a connection in the singles' bar that evening, and every day that followed had merely strengthened their bond. He was not stupid enough to believe it was unbreakable -- at least, not yet -- but he had a feeling that it was strong enough to survive even Martin's father.

"He changed his mind," he said aloud. "Decided I'd make a good son-in-law after all."

Danny felt Martin relax in his arms. "He did, did he? Are you sure it was my dad?"

"Believe me, it was your dad." Danny spoke with conviction, recalling the small 'talking to' he had received from Victor Fitzgerald that promised him dire consequences if he ever hurt his boy. He grinned into the darkness of the room, aware that this 'talking to' had been another seemingly impossible connection made within his world, one that had given him his heart's desire -- Martin Fitzgerald -- and for as long as he could hold that connection.

And he intended to hold onto Martin forever.

THE END


End file.
